


Mulder and Scully and the Third Leia

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Case File, F/M, Star Wars References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 07:06:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12551884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: For the prompt: can write a story where M&S are working undercover at a Star Trek Con... This is pure fluff fun. I cheated and used Star Wars - my knowledge of Star Trek is limited.





	Mulder and Scully and the Third Leia

She stares at herself in the mirror. Despite her misgivings, she actually feels pretty damned cool. She pulls the jacket off the chair, shrugs it on and heads out to the venue. She knows Mulder is pumped for this assignment. After the Rob and Laura Petrie adventure, he’s been angling for more undercover work. She knows why. He’s the kid who was forced to go to the dress-up parties in costumes not of his own choosing. As she walks through the car park she pictures him as Kirk when he would have preferred to be the Spock, as Superman when he would have preferred The Spirit, as white spangly Elvis when he would have preferred the black leather version. Pushing through the crowds, she thought about black leather a little longer. And then she saw him.  
The convention manager flexed his knuckles and explained once again how this was an inconvenience. “My people pay huge money for photos with their heroes. They stand in line for hours for autographs. They buy tee-shirts…”  
“At incredible mark-ups and sleep in them for a year without washing them,” Mulder grins and walks to the window. “Believe me, I know. I have a stack of early Doctor Who memorabilia…”  
“Anyhow, Mr Melis,” Scully cuts in, “we really do need to surveil the full expo hall and the best way to do that is to blend in.” She eyes Mulder as he checks out his own reflection in the glass.  
Melis raises his eyebrows at her and tuts. “We have our biggest star due to arrive. I have to head out back.”  
“Biggest star?” Scully asks, as the manager hangs an ID badge around his neck and slips a plastic weapon into his holster.  
Mulder stands by her side. “William Hootkins, Scully. Didn’t you read the press? Is that the E-11 blaster or the DC-15A?” He points to the weapon and Melis pulls it back out.  
“William who?”  
Swinging round, blaster in hand, Mulder sighs. “Hootkins. He played Jek Porkins, in A New Hope. And Major Eaton in Raiders of the Lost Ark. I’m going to get him to sign my rebel pilot overalls.”  
“You brought overalls?” Scully asks, letting her exasperation out in a delicious crick of her neck. Mulder looks at her and his lips quirk into that ‘why are you even asking me’ smile. “Of course you did.”  
The convention is heaving with Wookiees, droids, Stormtroopers, Ewoks and yetis that Mulder tells her are Wampas. There are Lukes, Hans, Darths, Landos and Leias. Mulder seems particularly taken with a trio of gold bikini-clad versions who walk past and shimmy at him. He turns to her, smirking.  
“Don’t say it,” she lays a hand on his arm. “Rebel Alliance Leader Leia Organa is more my style.” She taps her padded white jacket and lets him sigh.  
“I could have dressed as Jabba the Hutt and kept you on a chain, Scully.”  
“And I would have taken great pleasure in garrotting you, Mulder.”  
His eyes widen and his smile is insufferable. She walks off.  
The Bureau was on the tail of Rita Barilla, wanted for theft, deception and credit card fraud. Her MO was to advertise her ‘services’ which included an eye-opening, and sometimes eye-watering, variety of unusual role-play scenarios and then make off with the goods before the act was finished. She would often meet her clients – always powerful businessmen who would find it difficult to go public - at fan expos, dressed as Leia. When Skinner suggested they attend this small town convention where the Bureau had arranged a sting, she’d automatically said no. Mulder let her talk for a while, outlining all the – very valid – reasons why it was a bad idea. Skinner sat with his customary two fingers pressed against his mouth and remained silent. When she’d finished, she sat back against the chair and held her chin up.  
“Scully, the only way we’re going to stop this woman from embezzling any further funding from the vulnerable in our society is to go where she goes. Do as she does.”  
“I hardly think that wealthy business men who enjoy dressing up as science fiction characters during sex play are the vulnerable in our society,” she said. “They pay a ridiculous amount of money to be whipped with light sabers or handcuffed to giant furry creatures.”  
“Wookiees, Scully. They’re called Wookiees. And these men are unable to speak out about the crimes that have been committed against them because of their position in society. You may not see them as vulnerable, but believe me, they are in a delicate position.”  
She opened the casefile. “Well, you got that bit right. This one, a high court judge, was released after seven hours tied face down across a replica of the Death Star. He was naked except for a Darth Vader mask, complete with voice changer, so that when he was found the paramedics thought he was being asphyxiated.” She looked at Skinner. “Delicate.”  
The AD took off his glasses and rubbed his face. “Agents, you are the only ones with the undercover experience to pull off this assignment.”  
“Sir, with all due respect, there are many other agents with the same, if not more experience. And this isn’t an X-File.”  
“Agent Scully, there are elements to this case that are unusual. The setting affords you and Agent Mulder the best possible in. You’ll leave in the morning.”  
“The best possible in?” She knew her voice was squeaky but she was furious. She stood up and stepped towards Skinner’s desk. “What does that mean?”  
“It means, Scully,” Mulder said, placing a hand on the small of her back, “that my many hours of studying the world of Star Wars will not have gone to waste.”  
“Studying? Is that what you call it?”  
She swung round and reached the door before Skinner called out.  
“Agents.”  
She turned, trying to contain her anger. Skinner was smiling. Sort of.  
“May the force be with you.”  
She’s browsing the stalls, flicking through stacks of autograph books, framed photos of people she doesn’t recognise, movie posters, tee-shirts and buttons and pins and mugs and toothbrushes and other assorted paraphernalia, when she hears the buzz of static. She thinks, with some amusement, that this is the only place in the world where nobody would bat an eye at a woman in a snow suit talking on a walkie-talkie while holding up an egg cup in the shape of R2D2.  
“I’m on her tail, Scully. She’s heading to the side doors, arm in arm with Han Solo.”  
“Can you give me a better description?” she says, looking around at the dozens of Leias and Hans wandering around. She heads out in the general direction, studying faces and eye colour and chin shape. She thinks she sees a likely couple and fingers her weapon when Han turns and she realises they are both women.  
A few metres ahead, she sees Mulder. Beyond him, she spies the real Rita Barilla, plaits wound around her ears and white robe flowing, chatting to a man wearing brown pants, brown vest over a cream shirt, she thinks about how Mulder hadn’t really thought his costume through. Typical, impulsive Mulder. She races to the exit, feeling powerful in her own outfit. Rebel Leader was an apt description for her job.  
“FBI! Rita Barilla, put your hands up.”  
The woman drops the arm of her companion who sidesteps away with an expression of confusion and surprise on his face. Mulder is still catching up. She can hear him cursing through the walkie-talkie. Rita Barilla ducks down rolls into a crowd of people. Scully runs towards her and yells at Mulder to follow. He raises an arm in acknowledgement. She sees the white robe flitting through the crowds, towards a large gathering of other white robes. Shit. Scully pushes through the people, twisting them round to look at them. Mulder is finally with her.  
“Rita Barilla, stop right there,” he yells.  
“Where’s your weapon?” Scully asks, desperately scanning faces for the right Leia.  
“It got stuck,” he whispers.  
“Stuck?” She looks down at him.  
“Don’t, Scully,” he says. “Just don’t.”  
She can see the gun wedged down his thigh pad.  
“She’s the third Leia on the right. She’s the one with the really big…”  
“Plaits,” she finishes.  
She rushes forward, barrelling into her target until she’s astride her on the floor. The crowd parts and Mulder arrives. Squeaking. And trying to unstick his weapon.  
“Curse my metal body,” he says, finally pulling the gun out. “Rita Barilla, you’re under arrest…”  
They watch as Barilla is taken away in handcuffs, wedged between two police officers. It’s eerily similar to a scene from the movie.  
“May I congratulate the Princess on her good work. The odds of intercepting the correct suspect in a room full of…”  
She digs him in the ribs and regrets it as it bounces off his gold plate. “Shut up or I’ll disconnect your circuit board.”  
He holds up his hands, bent at the elbows. His mask is off, his head is quirked at an angle and he’s wearing that silly grin again. “I love it when you talk dirty, Scully.”


End file.
